


I Miss You So Very Very Much

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2507141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FrUK, Human AU. December the 6th was the day Arthur Kirkland was murdered and the day when his and Francis Bonnefoy's perfect, dreamlike marriage came to a tragic end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Miss You So Very Very Much

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This probably took longer than it should have and I don't know if I even like how this went. Oh well, it's my longest one-shot ever so far. Also, I got inspiration for this fic when I was reading The Lovely Bones which is now one of my favourite books. And note, I used some of my OC's in this because I'm too lazy to find another character in Hetalia to be the police people. But yeah, please leave a review because it would make me extremely happy if you do
> 
> ~ Anna ^^

The date was the 7th of December when Francis Bonnefoy reported his lover, Arthur Kirkland missing. He had left to go pick up a parcel they both missed on the 4th of December. It wasn't in Arthur's nature to disappear without warning, telling no one where he'd gone. They'd also just had a fight about something trivial that sent Arthur storming out of the room and later out of the house when he decided to run some errands though Francis knew he was just getting out of the house. That's why Francis Bonnefoy was so worried when he suddenly disappeared.

**0o0o0o0o0**

A family of five, a father, a mother, two sons, Dmitri, 12, and Sammy,6, and a girl, Roseline, 10. Were walking to their favourite picnic spot located under a willow tree in Kazu Park. It was an unusually perfect, sunny and clear spring day on the 15th of April. The birds were out and the children playing. Yes, this was a fine day to go out with your family. Nothing could go wrong or ruin this perfect day.

“Mum! Hey Mum! Can we go play in the Willow Ditch?” Roseline asked, her brothers trailing excitedly behind her. The Willow Ditch was what they called a ditch that lay just beyond the row of willow trees where they had their favourite picnic spot.

Her mother smiled down kindly at them. “Yes, go on. You can go play in the ditch.” She allowed before yelling to them as the three ran to the ditch, “And when we call you, come back, okay?!”

“Okay!” Three voices chorused before disappearing behind the willow trees.

“I'll race you to the end of the ditch and back!” Dmitri shouted to the other two as he jumped into the ditch and took of sprinting down it.

“You're on!” Roseline called after him also jumping into the ditch and sprinting to catch up with him.

“Hey you guys! Wait for me!” The youngest, Sammy, yelled to them, slowly climbing into the ditch and running as fast as he could to catch up with them which wasn't that fast at all.

“Hurry up Sammy!” Roseline shouted to her brother as she caught up to Dmitri. Even though he was older than her, she was much faster than him and easily overtook him,

“I'm coming! I'm coming! Just wait!” Sammy screamed back to her, panting heavily. He loved the ditch as much as the other two but when he was forced to race along it, he hated it. Always the slowest and never the winner. It was the most boring and tiring game in the world to him.

“Goodbye Dmitri!” She shouted to him as she passed him by leaving him in the dust. Roseline was determined to win this race, like all the other's she competed in. Winning was her second favourite thing, after ice cream of course.

Jumping over the rock that had been lying in the middle of the ditch since she first came here, she continued to sprint down the ditch until she came across an unfamiliar obstacle. A black plastic bag which was emanating a putrid smell. It smelled worse than off milk and cheese combined. She stopped a few meters away from it and waited until her brothers caught up so they can find out what the smell was.

It wasn't long before both Dmitri and Sammy caught up to her, both panting. “Why did you stop?” Dmitri asked her curiously, not having yet smelt the smell coming from the bag. When he did, he gagged and asked, “What the hell is that smell and where is it coming from?”  
Roseline pointed to the black bag where the smell was coming from. “It's coming from that bag. Do you want to see what's in it?”

Dmitri looked at the bag, then at Roseline and then back at the bag. From where he was standing, he could see a sticky-looking, dark liquid coming from inside the bag. Slowly, he stepped forward, covering his nose with his shirt. He got closer and closer to the bag and soon, he was close enough to reach down and opened the it.

Quickly turning to glance back at his siblings, he cautiously opened the bag and looked inside. He was frozen. He couldn't move and he couldn't speak. The most Dmitri could do was stand there and look horrified while looking in the bag. Somewhere though, he heard a twig snap and that somehow brought him back to reality. Pivoting on his heel, he turned and sprinted as fast as he could back down the ditch and to his parents, leaving Roseline and Sammy behind.

Bravely, Roseline took a step forward and then another step and peered into the bag. Her eyes widened once she figured out what she was looking at. A head. An actual human head lying on top of severed limbs. This was like the stuff she always saw in movies and video games but this was real life. A real human being sitting dismembered in the bag.

She took two slow steps back, her eyes not leaving the bag and grabbed Sammy's hand. Tearing her eyes away from the image, she ran back to her parents just as Dmitri did only slower since she had to drag Sammy along with her.

On that day, both Roseline and Dmitri saw something they won't ever forget. The day their perfect picnic came to a sudden and horrifying end.

The day Arthur Kirkland was finally found on the 15th of April at 11:56 am.

**0o0o0o0o0**

It had been four months since Francis Bonnefoy reported his husband, Arthur Kirkland, missing. Everyday from the day he went missing, Francis hoped that Arthur would come back to him and act like he was only gone for an hour or two. Of course, that never happened and that left him heart broken.

The time was 12:04 on the 21st of April which was a Sunday when he heard his doorbell ring. Putting down his knife, he walked to his door and opened it. A man in a uniform and a woman dressed casually but also somewhat business like, stood outside his home.

“Can I help you?” Francis asked them, looking them up and down, slightly curious who they where and why were they here.

“Are you Francis Bonnefoy?” The man asked in what he thought was a German accent.

“Yes, I'm Francis Bonnefoy.” He replied, his curiosity growing stronger by the second. “Who's asking?”

“My name is Detective Chief Inspector Matthias Fabel and this is my partner Dr Violette Faye. May we come inside?” The man introduced pointing to himself and his partner as he did so.

Francis didn't answer them straight away. He was both curious and cautious of them. They seemed like they were nice and they were coming to him for some serious matter about something or other.

That was when the though struck him that them being here maybe had something to do with Arthur's disappearance. Maybe they'd found where he was and why he left so suddenly without warning.

“...Sure.” He replied wearily, opening the door so they could step in and moved out of the way. Francis led them to the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink? Tea, coffee, water..?”

He was sure that, what was his name Matthias? Was about to take his offer up on drinks when his partner suddenly cut in. “No thanks Mr. Bonnefoy, we're fine.” She declined, in what he recognised as a French accent with something else mixed in. Russian maybe? She continued, “we need to talk to you about your husband and answer some questions.

“Mon Dieu.” He muttered, “I had a feeling this was about Arthur. Do you know where he is?”

“I'm afraid we do. About a week ago, a body was found in Kazu Park about twenty, twenty-five kilometres from here. We believe it to be your husband Mr. Bonnefoy.” Matthias stated as the woman, Violette pulled out an evidence bag from the bag she was carrying that appeared to have a gold ring in it.

“Do you recognise this?” She questioned, handing Francis the bag. “This was the only thing on his apart from his clothing that we found. We suspect that whatever other valuables he had on him at the time were stolen.”

He took the plastic bag from her and turned it over in his hands. Something was engraved inside the ring. Francis squinted slightly and moved the ring in the bag closer so he could read the engraving. “Je t'aime, Arthur”. He stood there, frozen after reading the engraved writing in the ring. This was Arthur's ring. The ring that was given to him on their wedding. He was certain that this ring was Arthur's. How many rings with the words je t'aime Arthur engraved on the insider were actually out there.

Looking up from the ring he replied, trying to make his voice not sound shaky. “Yes, this is Arthur's ring. I'm sure of it.” Francis handed the ring back to her which she promptly returned to her bag.

“I'm sorry for your loss,” he said, offering his condolences. “But if you don't mind, we need to ask you some questions to help forward our investigation.”

Before Francis replied to them, he asked them his own question. “Did-Did he suffer?” He asked, not bothering to try and hide his stutter this time.

Violette took a deep breath in before answering his question. “No, he didn't suffer. Arthur never saw it coming.” That was a lie though Francis didn't know that. According to the report she was given, his body was found in a black plastic garbage bag, dismembered. Violette also made the gruesome discovery that he was still alive when he was being dismembered. Arthur's remains told her that his legs where cut off first, then his arms and his head last. He was still alive, though just barely with the amount of blood lost, when his head was finally sawed off. Of course, she didn't say that.

Francis nodded his head. “O-Okay.” Was all his reply was as he waited for the questions they would throw at him.

“When was the last time you saw your husband?” Matthias asked, stepping forward.

“The 6th of December, last year. I remember we had a fight about something trivial, I can't remember what it was about though. We fought about everything.” He started, “I still loved him though.

“I remember him storming out of the house muttering something about going to pick up a parcel he missed. I ignored him. That was the last time I saw him. You don't know how many times I regret a day that I regret that day.”

Matthias nodded and continued, “Was your husband in anyway involved with drugs, gangs or was in debt to the wrong people or anything like that?”

Francis looked at him surprised. “N-No, he didn't do anything like that. He wasn't that sort of person to do those kind of things, at least to my knowledge.”

“Okay, did Arthur have a habit of disappearing for a while and not telling anyone where he went or where he was going?”

“No, he always told someone where he was going. Usually it would be me, Alfred, Matthew and sometimes Kiku.”

“Did Arthur have a history have a history of having secret affairs with anybody?”

“What? No! Arthur never had any affairs with anybody.” He answered, shocked that he'd been asked such a thing but calming down once he reminded himself that this was probably all necessary to the investigation. “Do you have any more questions?”

Matthias hesitated for a second before saying, “no, we don't have any more questions Mr. Bonnefoy. We thank you for your cooperation.” He started, “I think we've got enough information for now. We'll come back if we need to ask you some more questions or if we've found anything big that we think is important for you to know.”

Francis nodded his head in understanding. “Okay then. If that's all...” He trailed off.

“Yes, we'll be going now. Thank you and goodbye Mr. Bonnefoy.” Violette said, starting to head back to the front door with Matthias following her.

“Ah! Wait!.” Francis called once he remembered something he almost forgot to ask them. “Do you think, once you're done with it, I could have the ring back?”

She turned to look at him. “Yes, I don't see why not.” Was all she said before turning back around and quietly leaving the house with Matthias trailing after her which leaving Francis in a painful silence.

Francis didn't know how much time passed, a minute, five minutes, ten minutes, just standing there after they'd left, frozen. Slowly, though, he leant on a nearby wall and slid down it, bring his knees up to his chest. He took the hair band out and ran his fingers through his hair before burying his face in his arms.

He didn't know what to think. His brain, at the moment, was clouded over. What made it worse though, was that he didn't feel anything. Not pain or sadness and, not surprisingly, happy or any other positive or negative emotion. Francis felt nothing. The only thing he felt was numbness and somehow, that was a thousand times worse than feeling mournful or being struck with grief.

Was this really better? Knowing that Arthur wasn't ever going to come back home. That he wasn't going to walk back through those doors as if he hadn't been gone for more than an hour or two. Was it really better knowing that Arthur had been murdered as he wasn't ever going to be seen again? Was this better?

For awhile he sat there, against the wall searching for anything but numbness and for him then, time stood still. He couldn't hear the clock tick or a dog barking in a neighbours yard or the screech of a cars tires outside. Nothing else existed to him but his own little world he'd constructed inside himself.

Francis couldn't tell you how long he'd been sitting there, in that same position, when he fell asleep. Even though he was in his own little world and time stood still and nothing else existed, the rain that had begun falling steadily outside had begun to fall.

At 2:55pm on a rainy Sunday afternoon, Francis Bonnefoy fell into a numb sleep.

**0o0o0o0o0**

At 5:14pm on a rainy Sunday evening, a doorbell rang slowly bringing Francis Bonnefoy out of his uncomfortable sleep. Blinking slowly awake, he turned his head to the door. Someone else was visiting him for the second time today. Did he really want to open that door? He might not like what was on the other side of it.

He sighed, both sadly and exhaustedly, and began to stand up, slowly taking off his apron that he forgot he was wearing. Hanging it on a hook in the kitchen, he shuffled back through the hallway and to the door. Before he opened it however, he stood there and composed himself, putting a smile, though fake, on his face.

Francis opened the door cautiously. “Gilbert? Toni? What are you doing here?” He asked, once he saw his two best friends standing in front of his door, holding several plastic bags that he guessed contained food and drink.

“Have you forgotten already?! We talked about coming over to your house to have a horror movie marathon.” Gilbert explained loudly taking a step into his house even though he wasn't invited in.

“What-But-” Francis started though not being able to find the right words.

It's not like he didn't like Gilbert or Antonio coming around to visit him, they'd been best friends since they were kids, he just didn't want to see them at the moment. The same went for anybody else. What he wanted at that moment was to be alone. To be left in his own company.

Antonio went to follow Gilbert inside, but stopped when he saw Francis try and say something to Gilbert as he waltzed into his house. Something was wrong with Francis but he couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was. There was something different in the way he stood and the look in his eye. The last thing he wanted to do was pry into his life though. If Francis wanted to speak about whatever was bothering him, he would. So instead he simply asked, “Amigo, are you okay?”

Francis faltered for a split second before regaining his composure. “I'm okay.” He replied, “Why would you ask that?” Pushing the lump in his throat down and doing his best to ignore it.

“No reason.” Antonio said cheerfully, continuing to walk down the hall to where Gilbert was at that moment in time, though still suspicious that there was something wrong with Francis.

Francis closed the door and leant against it. He knew that he wouldn't be able to chase his friends out so he figured to stick it out until they decided to leave, whenever that was. Pushing himself from the door, he went to go join the two who had made themselves at home in his living room.

“Hey Francis!” Gilbert yelled once he noticed that he had entered the room. “Which movie do you want to watch first? Me and Toni have brought a tonne of movies! You have some too, don't you?”

“Mhm, they're over there.” He said, pointing to the case were the DVDs where kept. “You can look through them if you like.” Francis offered sitting down on one of the sofas and leaning his head on his hand.

It wasn't long before both Gilbert and Antonio had pillaged his DVD collection of horror movies and dropped them with the others.

“Hey Francis, which one should we watch first?” Antonio asked, turning to look at Francis.

Francis shifted his attention to Antonio when he heard his name being called. “Well,” he started, “What are the choices?” Before Antonio had called his name he thought that, even though it was so soon after his new knowledge of Arthur's death, that this was an opportunity to forget, at least for now.

Standing up, he wondered over to where they had dumped the DVDs and shifted through them all. “How about the one?” He asked, holding up a case that read 'As Above, So Below'.

“Aww, I was hoping to watch this one.” Gilbert whined, holding up one that said 'Dead Silence' in big red letters. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

Francis raised an eyebrow. “Fine, rock, paper, scissors.”

He raised his free hand and so did Gilbert. “Rock, paper, scissors.” Francis held his hand flat, signalling paper and Gilbert had his hand in a fist. Francis won.

“'As Above, So Below' it is then.” Antonio announced, taking the DVD from Francis. “Oh, but first, can we watch the news?”

Gilbert shot a confused look at Antonio. “Why?”

“They had a competition on, that I entered and they're drawing the winner tonight. They should announce it in about fifteen minutes.” Antonio explained, hoping that he could watch the news.

“Hmph, fine. I guess another fifteen minutes ain't that bad.” Gilbert grumbled as Antonio turned the TV on and flicked to the news channel where the competition was being held.

“Did either one of you two bring drinks?” Francis asked,

“Antonio only let me bring Coca-Cola and lemonade.” Gilbert said, moaning. “I would've brought beer instead.”

“Only because of how you acted the last time you got drunk. I had to pay for those windows you know.” Antonio retorted as he sat on the sofa. “Now shh, I want to watch the news.”

“Do either of you want a drink?” Francis offered watching their little fight between each other.  
“I'll take the coke then, someone has to drink it.” Gilbert replied as he took the bottle of Coca-Cola out of one of the packets they had brought with them.

“And can I just get a glass of water Francis, thank you.” Antonio answered, eyes not moving from the screen of the TV which was blaring something about stock rates.

“Okay.” Was all Francis' reply as he took the bottle of Coca-Cola from Gilbert and went into the kitchen which was connected to the living room and had an open window into the living room. Grabbing three glasses from the cupboard, he moved to the surface under the window that led to the living room and started to pour the Coca-Cola for Gilbert. Francis screwed the lid back on and went to the fridge to grab out the bottle of cold water he kept in their.

Just as he was about the pour the water for himself and Antonio, a news report on the TV caught his attention suddenly. Stopping what he was doing, he listened to the news reporter carefully.

“... Police have identified the body found on Monday by three local kids in Kazu Park. They believe the victim to be twenty-three year old, Arthur Kirkland who was reported missing on December 7th, last year by his husband. Police still have no leads to the suspect.”

The house fell into a complete silence, the only noise coming from the TV. Gilbert had stopped bragging about whatever he did to Antonio and Antonio's attention shifted back the the news. Francis froze.

Slowly, he looked up from the three glasses that sat on the surface. Both Gilbert and Antonio were staring at him. “...W-what?” He asked, though it barely came out as a shaky whisper before once again, silence washed over them.

“I knew something happened. You didn't look or act how you would normally act when we have our marathons.” Antonio said, breaking the silence that had settled between the three. “Francis, why didn't you tell us?”

Francis stood their looking at them with no answer. “I-I-No-I-I don't know.” He stuttered, barely managing to get the words out of his mouth, the lump in his throat rising. There goes his plans to try and let go for awhile.

“Francis, are you actually okay? Don't try and lie to us because that isn't awesome.” Gilbert asked, clearly concerned for him.

Francis tried to reply to Gilbert that he was fine and nothing was wrong but the words didn't want to form. His own voice betraying him.

“Francis?” Antonio urged, seeing that he wasn't answering the question.

Silently, Francis just shook his head slowly. He wasn't okay, he was far from it. No words could ever truly explain the painful feeling that had settled inside him. Francis refused to cry in front of anybody though. That'd be something he did when he was alone and no one else was with him.

“Why didn't you tell us?” Gilbert asked, trying again. “We're friends, best friends, we are supposed to tell us things like this. Not hide it from each other and only find out when it's all over the news!”

Francis stood there and said nothing. He knew he should have said something to them and he didn't know why he didn't. A defence mechanism? Or maybe pride?

“Gilbert, don't shout. It's not helping” Antonio scolded standing up,

“But Toni! We are his friends. We tell each other things, we don't keep them from each other!” Gilbert yelled, feeling a sudden dry-like anger start to burn inside him.

“Gilbert! Please! You are not helping the situation in any way by saying that. What's happened has happened and you cannot change it.” Antonio shouted to Gilbert as he grabbed his upper arm.

He turned to glare at Antonio but something about the look he was giving him calmed the burning anger inside him and soon, the burning anger inside him burnt out. Taking a deep breath in, he relaxed and said, “you're right. Shouting won't help. That was very un-awesome of me” He turned his head back to Francis. “I'm sorry Francis.”

Francis didn't answer. Instead, he stood, frozen with eyes glued to the surface of the kitchen bench and hands gripping the sides of the same kitchen bench. It felt cool on his hands. He breathed out a deep and shaky breath, trying to regain his usual calmness but the lump in his throat grew and his tears threatened to roll freely down his cheeks.

“I-I-I,” he tried. Quickly clearing his throat, he tried once again. “I-I only fou-found out this afternoon. It-It's only been a few hours and I-I-I.” He stopped again. Francis clenched his jaw as he held in a sob that came close to escaping.

It had been four months. Four months since Arthur had disappeared and not once did he allow himself to cry. Crying meant that he would have to accept that he was gone and he wasn't coming back. But now, it was certain that he wasn't coming back and the tears he held back for months suddenly flooded him. He didn't want to cry. Not in front of Gilbert. Nor Antonio. No body.

Francis wasn't sure he could speak without letting that first sob escape.

Neither Gilbert or Antonio asked Francis a question or pushed him to continue what he was saying. They both knew that he needed time to speak about whatever happened or whatever he was thinking or whatever he was feeling. After all, no one, ever, moved on from someone they were deeply in love with overnight. It needed time. A lot of time.

Slowly Francis calmed himself down, enough to speak clearly and be understood. “It-It's been on-only a few hours a-and I-I miss him. I-I miss him so much already. I don't- I don't know what to do.”

Francis felt his legs start to shake just after he said that before they collapsed all together. Letting go of the kitchen bench, he slid his hands down the cupboard. He brought his hand up to his face and covered his mouth with it, trying his best to muffle the sounds of the sobs that eventually escaped him.

Antonio and Gilbert glanced quietly at each other before leaving the living room altogether.

"Francis?" Antonio called as he and Gilbert entered the kitchen, finding Francis kneeling on the kitchen floor hunched over and shoulders shaking. He was definitely crying, both of them could tell even from standing in the doorway.

Francis didn't answer them, he didn't even hear Antonio and Gilbert call his name in the first place. He was too focused on the ever-growing pain in his chest. Not the physical kind that can get you sent to the nearest hospital but the emotional kind that feels lonely and hopeless. One that leaves you feeling numb and empty inside.

Antonio crouched down beside Francis and put a friendly but kind and gentle reassuring hand on his shoulder. Not moving it even when Francis jumped slightly and quickly turned his head towards him. Without his hand covering his face, he could see the quite visible tears on his cheeks.

He didn't know how to act or deal with this situation. Gilbert didn't either. Neither of them had lost anyone that close to them before so comforting Francis wasn't going to be an easy or straightforward thing to do.

“Francis..?” Antonio started, once Francis had gone back to his original position, hunched over himself with his hand covering his mouth. “Francis, is there anything we can do?”

Gilbert came over from where he was standing in the doorway and knelt down on the other side of Francis. “Francis?” Gilbert tried.

Francis just shook his head. He loved Antonio and Gilbert like they were brothers but at that moment, he wanted to be left alone. There really wasn't anything they could do for him, unless they had the power to bring back the dead. He shakily said to both of them, hand still covering his mouth, “N-No. There-There is nothing.”

“Are you sure? I mean, we can stay here if you want.” Gilbert urged, “The only people waiting for us is Eliziveta and Lovino but they don't expect us to be back any time soon.” He said, unknown to the fact that he'd absent mindedly mentioned their own lovers.

Francis picked up on that and a pain struck his heart as a realisation was made. There wasn't anyone going to be waiting for him when he gets home, from work or just hanging around with Antonio and Gilbert. At least for him. He couldn't see himself with someone else for a long, long, long time.

He nodded his head silently, choosing not to answer him. Francis felt that if he was to open his mouth to speak again, his muffled sobbing would turn into something more. Something that was almost impossible to control. Something he wanted to deal with in private and never let anyone see.

Antonio looked at Gilbert and Gilbert looked at Antonio. Silently, they both agreed that it was best to do as Francis wished and leave but not before they had made sure that he was going to be okay and wouldn't take any drastic and unnecessary measures.

“Okay then,” Antonio chorused, holding Francis' upper arm. Gilbert did that same thing. “I think it's best if you just go to bed.” He started to pull Francis up with Gilbert's help. It wasn't that hard.

Francis either didn't care or have enough strength to push them away or fight them. He too slowly got up again with their help and shuffled to his and Arthur's, now just his, bedroom. Thanking anyone who would listen, that his side of the bed was the one closest to the door, he collapsed on his bed. He didn't bother to remove his trousers or his shirt, he didn't care for comfort at that moment in time.

“Amigo, are you sure you are going to be alright?” Antonio asked again, still worried that Francis would do something he might regret later. He only received a nod in return.

“Okay then, if you're sure that you're gonna be alright here all by yourself.” Gilbert said, turning back to the door that led into the hallway. “We're just going to clean up for you and then we'll go, okay.” Another nod from Francis.

Francis watched as Gilbert and Antonio left the room. Sighing, though grateful for the pause in his tears and sobs, he swung his legs over the bed and shakily stand up. He knew that it wasn't that good for you to sleep in the clothes you wear in the day and he needed a good sleep that made him feel rested. Stripping out of his shirt and jeans, he crawled back into bed and left the clothes crumpled on the floor.

His bed still felt warm as he climbed under the sheets and turned his back to the door. For a minute he lay there, looking at the empty space that lay beside him. Sometimes, since Arthur disappeared, when he was feeling the loneliest or exhausted, he rolled over into what used to be Arthur's side of the bed and lay there, the smell of tea and mint filling his nose. Arthur's pillow's still faintly smelled of him. Francis didn't dare touch his clothes though.

Francis didn't know how long he'd been lying there, staring at the other side of the bed. His pain had ever so slowly disappeared only to be replaced, once again, with an almost equally unbearable numbness.

Some when during that time, both Antonio and Gilbert reluctantly left returning to their own significant lover and holding them for as long as they could get away with.

It was just as Francis was falling asleep when he felt something. The feeling that he was being watched coming from somewhere behind him. He expected that it was Gilbert or Antonio but when he lazily turned his head to look behind him, there was nothing there. Only him.

Francis rolled onto his stomach and shrugged the feeling off and once again, continued to fall into a numb and exhausting sleep.

**0o0o0o0o0**

On Monday the 22nd of April, it was another overcast day. The only birds out singing that morning were a few pigeons sitting on the roof of the house opposite. Even though there were few and they were across they road, it was enough to wake Francis Bonnefoy, a newly learnt widower, up.

Francis groaned, turning over. He wasn't quite ready to wake up yet, still wanting to be asleep since it made him forget everything for a few hours. After a few minutes of tossing and turning and trying to get back to sleep, he realised that that wasn't going to happen. Turning over for what seemed like hundredth time already that morning, he opened his eyes and scanned his room.

His eyes fell onto a picture that sat in a silver frame. It was a picture of him and Arthur on their honeymoon in Seychelles. They were on the beach when it was taken. For the first time in a while, a small, yet genuine smile crept it's way on Francis' face as he remembered the memory. A memory that he'd hold dear to him for the rest of his life.

**0o0o0o0o0**

_“Francis. Put. Me. Down.” Arthur warned, stressing each word. He knew that Francis knew that he hated to be picked up and not just picked up, but picked up and was going to be thrown into the sea._

_“Non.” Francis replied stubbornly, smiling at Arthur._

_“Don't you smile at me.” He said, annoyed that Francis wouldn't put him down. Arthur was also annoyed at the fact that he couldn't do anything to Francis from his position since he was a bit too scared to unwrap his arms from his neck in case he fell._

_“Relax cher, I won't drop you. I promise.” Francis assured, starting to wade into the sea. The sea wasn't cold like he'd expected. Instead it was cool and felt nice against his warm skin. Once he was up to his waist and Arthur was only just above the water he continued, “see, we're in the water now. There's no chance of me hurting you if I do drop you.”_

_Arthur continued to frown at Francis. He didn't like the sea that much since he wasn't the best of swimmers. Sure, he could keep afloat in the water but that was the most he could do. He had no swimming ability whatsoever._

_“Don't you dare put me in the water.”_

_Francis smirked. “Why, I wouldn't dream of it.” And not two seconds after he said it, he, not only dropped him, but also bent his knees so Arthur couldn't hang onto his neck._

_Arthur's shout of surprise was cut off as he was dunked under water. Almost immediately, he surfaced and started to shout at Francis who was laughing hard. “I swear to god Francis, I am going to murder you!”_

_“You wouldn't.” He said, wrapping his arms around the angry Briton's waist and pulling him closer so their faces were only inches apart. “You couldn't live without me, that's why you married me, non?”_

_“No, that's not the reason.” Arthur said, in denial, as he placed his hands on Francis' shoulders._

_“Then what is the reason cher?” Francis asked or rather teased, playfully waiting for an answer._

_Arthur's face flushed red once he realised the predicament he had gotten himself into. “I don't have to tell you anything.” He replied, stubbornly. In truth, he didn't know what else to say. Everything else he could say was too embarrassing, for him anyway._

_“Oh, is that so?” Francis laughed softly, taking Arthur's left hand and kissing his knuckles as well as the gold band that was on his finger. “Je t'aime, cher.”_

_Arthur stopped frowning and instead, let a soft and small smile appear on his face. “I love you too, darling.”_

**0o0o0o0o0**

It was 11:56pm on December the 5th and Francis was staring at the digital clock that sat beside his bed. In four minutes, it would be the day he was regretting the most. The anniversary of his lover, Arthur Kirkland's death.

For the past few months, he'd been coping as well as someone who lost someone they loved so dearly, could. The first couple of months after Francis knew about his death were hard. He was thankful that his boss let him have all the time he needed off after he saw the news and Francis had rung him.

Now it was four minutes before the anniversary and he didn't know what to do or how to act. In all honesty, he wanted to go to sleep and figure out what to do in the morning.

It felt like an eternity to Francis when the clock eventually ticked over to 12:00am December the 6th. He held the held the shirt he's allowed himself to take from Arthur's cupboard. It was the first one out since he went missing and it still smelt like him. Nothing happened.

The clock ticked over to 12:01. He'd expected something to happen. Francis didn't know what exactly but he did. It was almost a disappointment when nothing happened. Almost.

Francis turned over to face the empty space beside him. He still hadn't taken over Arthur's space in the bed. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. Nor could he remove anything from it's place that once belonged to Arthur. He couldn't bring himself to do that, not yet at least.

Closing his eyes, he attempted to go to sleep though he knew he was far too awake to do so.

Francis couldn't pin point exactly when he had started to feel the feeling of being watched again for what seemed like the millionth time since he found out that Arthur died. This time it felt like they were watching him sleep while they lay beside him. He opened his eyes and saw no one just like he expected.

Somewhere down the road, he started to believe that Arthur was watching him from where ever he may be. From Heaven or maybe from a place he called the In Between. It was a concept he came up with as a small child when his grandma died.

He didn't know why but for some reason, something compelled him to speak. “...Arthur.” Was all he said. It was comforting though, just saying his name. Almost satisfying. “Arthur.” He repeated.

It was then when he felt it. Francis felt something very light, something very gentle and something very faint run through his hair. It was like someone was running their fingers through his hair. The feeling made him feel calm, sleepy and peaceful.

Francis remembered that before Arthur went missing, whenever he couldn't sleep he used to toss and turn which annoyed Arthur greatly. One way, he found, to make him fall asleep was to gently run his fingers through his hair. He'd usually be asleep in ten to fifteen minutes. Sometimes, Francis would fake not being able to sleep just so he could feel Arthur's fingers run through his hair. Deep down inside him, he had a feeling that Arthur knew he was faking it.

When Francis felt those same fingers run through his hair, he might have cried, if he weren't tried of crying already. Instead, he whispered softly to himself, or maybe Arthur. He didn't know. “I miss you so very, very much.”

And he did. Francis missed Arthur more than anything else in the world.

**0o0o0o0o0**

It was 11:43am on December the 6th when two little girls were running through the cemetery, admiring the flowers left on the grave stones. They stopped at a grave that had twelve beautiful Tudor Roses and a note with only three words written on it, sitting in front of it.

The note said in elegant handwriting: I love you.


End file.
